The Silence
by radioraheem
Summary: The battle is over, the evil demon destroyed. But from the ashes of the battlefield calls a mysterious song. Can a darkness as deep as Naraku truly be destroyed?
1. After the battle

Warm blood dripped from his monstrous blade, forming rivulets like crimson rivers along the sleek razor's edge. The land around him smoldered and shimmered with heat, distorting the depth of the destruction. He stood in a smoking crater, the poisonous miasma finally relenting.Thehottoxicgasburned his skin with a somewhat pinching pain. He ground his fangs; he could bear the pain. His mortal enemy, Naraku, lay dead at his feet. Inuyasha let out a sigh of relief. The battle had been long and hard, but he had finally been able to defeat him. All that remained was to—

"_Inuyasha…_"

Was that a voice calling to him? He looked around; there was no one in sight. Kagome and the others were probably still a few miles behind, as they had to back off as the battle intensified. He was alone, just the way it used to be. It was strange, how familiar and easy it was to remember, though it seemed so long ago. Sure of his solitude, he sheathed the Tetsusaiga.

"_Inuyasha…"_ called the voice again. He spun around frantically, again seeing no one. That voice, so familiar in his memory. It was female, and young, full of life. Not Kagome's voice. Was it…?

"Kikyo," he called out, hoping against hope. She was dead, though. Twice over, in fact, and both times at the hand of thehalf demonhe had just slain. The cloud of miasma began to disperse, and the sun's light slowly trickled through the darkness. As it flowed across the landscape, he realized the utter destruction the climactic battle had unleashed. He gave a silent prayer of thanks that Kagome and the others hadn't been nearby for this.

He heard them now, in the distance, hissharp hearing picking up on Kagome's worried (and high pitched, though he'd never say it to her) voice. She was telling the others to hurry, and Sango explained that Kirara was still nursing wounds from the battle, and was going as fast as she could. Inuyasha wondered if Kagome would ever "sit" Sango if she could. It wouldn't surprise him, but then again, women had a way of sticking together, he thought.

As the sunlight fully illuminated the huge crater he stood in, the glint of something caught his eye, somethingby his feet. Of course; the Shikon Jewel! How could he forget it? It had all started over this, this little trinket…the shimmering jewel seemed to call to him now, the swirl of evil around it nearly palpable. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching for it,a murderous siren's song callingout tohim.

* * *

He suddenly became aware of all the poison within his battle worn body. It burned his insides, worse than any fever he had ever endured. The pain rumbled in his body, wracking his body with an unspeakable agony. A feeling of revulsion came over him, self-loathing like nothing he had experienced since his days of Kikyo's betrayal, of walking alone. Nothing to hold on to but his hate, his bitter loneliness. His body broke into a cold sweat as he staggered to his knees, shivering uncontrollably. Oddly, he knew he wasn't near death, but then what could be— 

Of course, he realized. The jewel! Naraku had taken the time to taint each and every shard to maximize his demonic power; it was no wonder so much evil would make him ill. Still, though…he felt himself drawn to it. Despite its effect on him, he moved closer and closer to it, his hand instinctively moving for the tainted jewel.

Sensing the great evil of the jewel from the distance, Kagome leapt off of Kirara and desperately began tosprint towards Inuyasha. She could feel its raw power, its darkness, calling out to them, particularly to him.

"INUYASHA!" she yelled. "STAY AWAY FROM THAT!"

But the swirling darkness of the jewel had grown, twisting and wrapping itself around the young half demon. He heard nothing, only the hollow roar of the pitch black void. Kagome realized this would require desperate measures; she hoped he'd forgive her for this later...

"INUYASHA! SIT B-!" she began, but it was too late.

The tip of his claw had touched the jewel, and a blinding flash filled the countryside. Then he knew nothing but darkness.

* * *

He woke with his face in the wet mud, and every inch of his body ached. He looked down at his clothes; where they weren't torn, they were stained with blood. He dimly recalled the battle with Naraku, but these scents, they— 

He heard a groan behind him, and he turned to see Miroku resting against a rock, his body badly injured. Inuyasha quickly ran to his side.

"MIROKU!" he cried. "What happened?" Miroku's eyes opened, blood flowing into them from a large gash in his forehead, and he grew angry.

"Foul demon, have you come back here to gloat? Don't expect me to beg!"

"Wha? What are you talking about, monk?"

"Inuyasha…so you've returned, I see. It must've been the blood in my eyes…"

"What happened here?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know, my friend."

"Tell me!" he screamed, grabbing Miroku by the collar. It was only when he got close that he realized how badly injured the young monk was. Those wounds would soon be fatal. "Miroku, my god, we need to get you to-!"

"No, it's too late for me.For all of us, Inuyasha. Don't you see? He has won."

"I-I don't understand…make some sense, damn it!"

"Look around you, Inuyasha. Don't you see what's happened?"

Despite the shaky rumbling in his heart, the dark rattlewithin his soul, he looked.

* * *


	2. The truth revealed

* * *

He would have thought he was used to it now, the sight of a once idyllic countryside torn apart and reduced to rubble, but he was wrong. The shock of it all hit him low, sinking inside his stomach, churning out a nauseous feeling of dread.

"No...don't tell me...Naraku?"

His friend could only nod, his strength beginning to fade.

"But how? How could he do this? I killed him!"

Miroku struggled to his feet, ignoring Inuyasha's words. "Inuyasha," he said. "Please help me over to that ridge." Inuyasha opened his mouth to argue, but the grim look in his friends' eyes made him reconsider.

Throwing the monk's arm over his shoulder, the half demon guided him to where he requested. When they finally reached the peak of the ridge, he finally saw what hissensitive nosehad told him long ago.

Sango lay in a heap, her battle armor torn and tattered. A dark pool of blood had gathered about her body, her face frozen in a grimace of pain. Inuyasha stared, his mouth agape at the sight of a warrior he had so deeply respected, her beaten body and—no, she couldn't be…

Miroku broke from his friend's grip, limping towards her with the last bit of his strength. He seemed to collapse rather than kneel by her side, struggling to stay in control. He put her head onto his lap, his shaking hands framing her youthful face delicately. Brushing away a dark strand of hair from her pale face, he softly caressed her fair cheek with his hand.

"Sango," he whispered. Her eyes opened slightly, carefully, before fully taking him in. Her grimace seemed to melt away, easing into a painless relief.

"Miroku," she said, her words coming out slowly, as if her breath were fading away. "I'm glad…you're still…alive. What of…the others?"

"They're all fine," he assured her, his eyes wavering ever so slightly. She looked at him now, looked at him in such a way that she had never done before. He blinked under her intense stare, hating himself for it. It was yet another lost moment.

"You never…could lie...worth a damn…monk," she coughed. "But I guess that's why…why I…love you," she sighed, her words dying on her final breath.

Miroku clutched at her, stunned, as he blinked away the tears, slowly closing her lifeless eyes with the gentle brush of his now steady hand. He held her head tightly, resting his tired face tenderly against hers, kissing her closed eyes, his own eyes clenched shut. Miroku opened his mouth to speak, but could say nothing. The expression on his face told his story plainly enough; he had loved her as well, more than he could ever admit.

Inuyasha watched this scene unfold in disbelief, the shock freezing his mind into numbness. Sango…dead? He turned away now, hearing Miroku struggle against the sobs, the human half of his heart aching as much for himself as for his heartbroken friend.

Slowly, the world steadily returned to focus. Inuyasha turned back to face Miroku, ready to take him away. Maybe someone who knew medicine could heal his wounds.

"Miroku...we need to get you to Kaede," Inuyasha said. "She can fix you up, make you right again."

The young monk stared at him, and for a moment Inuyasha could've sworn there was a burning hatred in those eyes, but the moment passed so quickly he wondered if it had ever truly been there.

"Inuyasha," he began. "It makes no difference; I can never be...whole again...without her. Do you understand?"

The half demon reluctantly nodded. He had seen such hopeless reactions to the tragic loss of a loved one before, particularly with humans. But he could never understand, especially in someone as strong as Miroku. Why, even when he had lost his mother--

"Inuyasha," he repeated. "I need to tell you what happened before I...go on myself."

"What do you mean," Inuyasha asked, surprised at the harshness in his voice. He hated to see Miroku give in so easily, to act so weak.

"Just listen...for once," Miroku said. "I don't want you to blame yourself for what's happened. It was...a trap, don't you see? Even in death he would do whatever he could to destroy us..."

As Miroku rambled on, it slowly crept upon Inuyasha; a nagging voice that furtively whispered to him what his heart had already told him, what his own nose had already realized. The blood on his hands was from Sango's deep wounds; the tears in Miroku's body caused by his own demon claws. But...how?

"And so, the dark essence of Naraku's spirit was housed within the tainted Shikon Jewel...no matter who touched it, they would become corrupted by his evil, taken over by his demonic soul. As fate would have it, that happened to be you, Inuyasha."

Inuyasha felt his knees beginning to buckle, the realization hitting him harder than a stab to his chest. He knelt at the feet of Miroku and Sango, his heart shaking furiously.

"I...I did this," he asked, his question in fact a statement.

"No," replied Miroku. "We all knew...it was Naraku controlling you. You mustn't blame yourself, Inuyasha. Do you hear me? It's not your fault!" But his desperate words fell on deaf ears. Inuyasha could only stare hollowly at him.

"Why didn't...why didn't you stop me," he pleaded.

Miroku leaned back against an uprooted tree stump, his exhaustion evident. "We tried. But when Naraku died, so died my wind tunnel," he replied, looking at his right hand. "I had no means to stop one such as yourself. And Sango...she did her best."

"And the others...?"

"It's too late for them as well, Inuyasha. Naraku...devoured Shippou and he..." his words trailed off.

"Wha-what about Kagome," he asked, afraid to hear the answer, but needing to.

"She's...dead," answered Miroku. "Leave it at that, Inuyasha. There is nothing you can do for her or us now. Just remember our sacrifices, destroy the jewel, and move on. Please...it's what she would have wanted."

But Inuyasha heard nothing, only the pulsing rumble of blood raging in his ears, a furious anger and self-loathing rising in his soul.

"Where is she," he said, his words coated in ice. Miroku cringed at the coldness in his voice, realizing there was no convincing Inuyasha of anything. Not before, and certainly not now.

"Over that hill," he directed. "But know this...Naraku did not give her a quick death. He...did things to her, Inuyasha. Things no woman should ever have to suffer."

The words pierced Inuyasha's heart; for Kagome to die, so young like that, thinking it was him...no, she knew he'd never hurt her...right? As he walked towards the hill, he thought of the safety spell Kaede had cast upon him. His hand strayed to his neck, and he found the necklace gone. He began to run.

* * *

Night had fallen over the ravaged countryside, the pale glow of the moon barely touching the dark graves he had dug over the hours. The work was probably the best thing for him, to push back his thoughts as he toiled. He rested now by the silent graves as the evening breeze cooled the sweat running down his back. There was only one last task ahead of him now; no use putting it off any longer. 

The sacred jewel. He wondered why he had ever wanted it in the first place; it wasn't power he sought. No, it had only served as a means, a way to strike back at Kikyo for her apparent betrayal. He drew the Tetsusaiga, raising it high above his head, preparing to strike down with all his might. But...he hesitated. Such a small trifling thing, a simple jewel; yet so much blood had been spilled over it, so much pain because of it. Would all this have been for nothing?

He recalled Miroku's words..."It was what she would have wanted." He heard the words, but could only see her body, torn and tattered, a bloody mess of young and tender flesh. Even her scent, her delightful summer scent, was tarnished by the foul stench of blood. Her blood, spilled by his own claws. He had considered taking her back to her own time to be buried with her families, but he knew he couldn't face her family. He couldn't let them see her like that. It was easier this way, at least for him. Not than anyone else mattered now; it was back to the old days.

Lost in his thoughts, he lay back on the fresh dirt beside Kagome's grave, his soul suddenly more weary and tired than he could ever remember. The loneliness...he wondered if he would ever get used to it again. As his thoughts drifted back to the young girl that had changed his once-cold heart, he felt his eyes well up and he blinked away tears. He turned his head and realized there was no one around. No one would see this moment of weakness. The tears finally came, pouring down his face in hot streams of despair and sadness. Eventually the sobs relented and he slept, clutching the sarcred jewel in his hand. As he slept, the jewel began to glow.

* * *


	3. A soul lost in darkness

He waded through the darkness of his dreams; horrifying images dotting his consciousness, the terrible knowledge that it had all come to pass through his own hand. He saw Kagome again, tears of crimson sadness dripping down her too pale face. He saw her agonized face, normally so kind and forgiving, now battered and broken. He saw his own reflection in her teary eyes, a lust driven monster. He heard her screams, her begging pleas to stop, please stop Inuyasha...

Suddenly, through the darkness, he saw a light in the far distance. He was alone, and he couldn't remember how he got there. He considered walking towards the light, but he became aware ofthe lightcomingcloser. No, the light was spreading, growing. Now it had enveloped him in its benevolent glow, and he felt peaceful. More peaceful than he deserved.

"No!" he cried. "I don't deserve this!"

_"You have suffered a great loss,_" said a voice that seemed to come from all around him. It was female, unfamiliar, but so...gentle. It reminded him of…her.

"It's...it's all my fault," he said, his voice weak.

_"What if there were a way to change it back, to make things right," _asked the light.

"Tell me how," he demanded, a new hope springing in his heart. "Tell me!"

_"The Shikon Jewel...it has vast powers. Powers fully untapped by any being," _it began, the voice suddenly booming loudly.

"Are you saying the Jewel can make things the way they were?"

_"It is...possible."_

"How? Tell me how!"

_"The flow of time is much like the flow of a river; you cannot hope to control it unless you know from which it stems."_

"Enough of these stupid games, damn you!"

_"Very well. But know this: there is no knowing what will happen, how far back time can go, or if anything will change at all. To simply ask for this is to risk everything. Do you do so willingly?"_

The words echoed in his mind. What was there to lose at this point? His friends were all dead, he was alone…he saw Kagome again, an old and nearly faded memory. They were standing in a field of tall grass, the wind blowing her dark hair lightly, her cherry blossom scent caressing his nose as he walked beside her. Crimson red petals fell about him like lost opportunities, the gentle never-ending call of the seasons reaching out to them both. She mentioned seeing fireflies and his promise to take her, her cherubic face aglow with the joy of the possibilities. So young, he thought. So full of life…he closed his eyes.

"I…accept," he finally said, bowing his head.

_"And so, let it be done…"_

And the blinding light spread again, fully engulfing him, and he knew nothing but the light.

* * *

Kagome awoke to the sound of her brother stomping through the hallway. Despite his annoying morning habit, she was partly thankful he had woken her. Last night's nightmare was a doozy, and besides…she didn't want to be late for school. Not again, at least.

She was brushing her teeth and combing her hair at the same time, wondering if she had forgotten something. She'd done all her homework, put her books away, and finished her chores the night before…what was it? That was strange. She'd have to tell the others about it later when she went down the wel-

"Kagome, breakfast!" her brother yelled, sprinting past the bathroom door, a soccer ball bouncing between his hands.

"Aren't you supposed to avoid using your hands in _foot_ball," she asked, a bit put out. Her brother was always interrupting her thoughts. Oh well, she was lucky to even have one, she thought. Why, she remembered her friend had lost a brother a little while ago, and she had barely begun to pull herself back together…

"Aren't you supposed to avoid, uh…looking ugly after doing yourself up," he shot back, sticking out his tongue at her. He was halfway down the stairs with a panic stricken look on his face when she began to give chase.

She was stepping out the front door when she saw the door to the sealed well open. That was strange; she walked over to see Sota standing at the doorway, his body shaking. Perhaps he realized the beating she was about to give him for his earlier comment; but apparently Sota wasn't much better than Gramps; he didn't even seem to realize he was about to pay for his earlier nasty comment to her. Instead he turned to her as if nothing had happened.

"You're not supposed to play in there," she lectured, her need for violence diminishing. Patience was the sign of an adult, she reminded herself. Sota _was_ just a child, after all.

"I'm not…it's the cat," he said, a bowl of food in his hand.

"Did he go down into the well," she asked, concerned.

"Buuyou…," he called, kneeling at the top of the stairs. "I don't know where else he could be," he muttered.

"So go down," she suggested, kneeling beside him.

"But why do I gotta be the one," he whined.

"Because _you're_ the one that's looking for him," she replied, put off. Was she ever like this at his age?

"Whoa, something's down there!" he cried, leaping behind her at the sound of scratching coming from below.

"Yeah…the cat," she said, reluctantly getting to her feet and stepping down the old wooden stairs. The creak of the wood did little to ease her tension. When was the last time Gramps had looked at these? The feudal era?

That scratching sound again…she felt something brush against her leg, and she yelped. Sota echoed her response, then he began to laugh at her when they both realized it was just the cat. She heard something from inside the well, something scratching. She turned away with Buuyou in hand, the whole scene oddly familiar. Kagome opened her mouth to say something, but could only look at her younger brother with a befuddled expression.

"What is it, sis," he asked. "Is something down there," he asked, fear creeping into his voice.

Kagome shook her head, the thought already gone as she leapt up the stairs, two at a time, to reach the top. She looked back, again half expecting something to happen, but nothing did. So she put the cat down and hurried off to school. If she were late again she'd be in hot water with her teacher. Again. Kagome reminded herself that punctuality was a sign of an adult, and turning 15 was a big step towards adulthood. No time to play around.

* * *

The sun shone brighter than it had all week. The clouds had broken the night before, the rains relenting. While the rain was good for the crops, she had to admit she hated it. Then again, it made you really appreciate the days it didn't rain. She heard the light patter of footsteps in the hallway, and the young, freckled face of her brother poked around the doorway.

"Hey sis, ready to train today," Kohaku asked, much more excited than usual. Perhaps training in the cold rain had been getting to him, she thought. Sango slid into her practice armor, the edges chipped and the color worn, and stepped into the brightness of the day.

The village was bustling as usual, but there was a renewed vigor about their routines. It wasn't because of the weather, it seemed, either. Sango approached their neighbor, a young girl who was seemingly daydreaming.

"Suzume, what's going on in the village today," Sango asked.

"Oh, hi Sango," the girl replied. "Nothing unusual," she paused, remembering something. "But there is a handsome young man about the village today," she squealed before regaining her composure and straightening her hair.

The young demon slayer barely nodded, her thoughts already on the day's training routine. Kohaku had shown a knack for his training, but he seemed to still be missing something. Father insisted there was nothing wrong, that his son's final training would pull everything together at once. Sango remembered the day all her training clicked, when handling her heavy Hiraikotsu ceased to become a labor and every movement felt perfect, felt right. The satisfaction of combat finally came to her, and with it a cool assured confidence.

She must have been daydreaming when the young monk passed her by, giving her an appreciative glance. His dark robes contrasted sharply with his pale skin, and his movements exuded a certain strength, both physical and spiritual. It might have been the light of the sunshine, but some would have argued that his smile actually sparkled.

"Why hello there," he smoothly spoke, leaning against a low fence by the family's garden. "I haven't seen you around here before," he added, turning up his considerable charm, flashing a smile with his eyes closed. His friendliness met with silence, he opened his eyes to see the attractive girl sitting with her back to him, running a whetting stone along the edge of her gigantic weapon. His face reddened at her shunning him, but he had to admit he enjoyed the view a bit more. He stepped around the fence, coming to her front, but she had already thrown her weapon over her shoulder and begun to walk away.

As she walked, Sango became aware of hot blood rushing to her face. She reflexively reached to her cheek, feeling a light burning sensation, and it surprised her. This was...different. No man had ever triggered such a reaction in her, not in all her sixteen years.

Pictures of a free life without fighting, a simple day to day life of holding hands in the sunshine and stealing secret kisses in the rain, began to assail her imagination. She felt a thrilling shudder run along her back, and she realized that such a life was one she wanted, no matter what she had told father and the others. She was still a woman after all, and this thought surprised her, as she had never thought of herself as that kind of woman, the kind that blushed so easily because of a man. It was this same impulse that urged her to turn around to see that handsome young man again, just once, despite her iron will. But he was now talking to Suzume, softly stroking her hand.

"Excuse me, miss...would you consider bearing my child," he asked, wearing a mischievous grin as Suzume giggled. Sango felt another hotness burning in her, a heat building to a head that would only be cooled by the fury of her training. Or...

"Say, monk," Sango called. "Would you care to help me with my training," she asked, stretching her lithe body to maximize the view. He came running over immediately like an obedient lapdog. Yes...violence wasn't a bad idea at all, she thought as she removed her now sharpened weapon.

"Certainly, young lady," he answered. "We should make sure your muscles are warmed up properly, though," he said, beginning to rub the muscles of her back. She felt his hand riding lower and lower, and she spoke, interrupting his progress.

"I feel like we're ready to start the next phase of training," Sango said, giving him a suggestive look.

"Oh, and what might that be," he asked flirtatiously, inching closer and closer to her.

"Running," she replied, as she hurled her weapon at the lecherous monk.

* * *

Kagome, more than anything, loved the lull of the evening. Her homework sat tucked away in her backpack, complete and double-checked. Dinner was delicious as usual, and there was nothing else to do but relax. It was one of the few pleasures of the school week, this content feeling of being ahead of the game.

The phone rang, breaking the stillness of the night. Kagome heard her mother calling out to her from downstairs. She rushed down the steps, half glancing at her brother struggling through his homework (finding a guilty, subtle pleasure in his desire to spend the time watching TV instead), and grabbing the receiver from the hook.

"I got it mom," she yelled, waiting to hear the click on the other line before speaking. She heard a boy's nervous voice on the other end.

* * *

Ah, to be young. Kagome walked about the house, her steps a bit lighter and her heart a flutter. Hojo, the hottest guy in school, had called her (HER!) and asked her out for a date (HER FIRST DATE!) over the weekend. She couldn't wait to tell her friends the news, the way she handled the conversation and calmly played it cool. She was so proud of herself, if only there was someone around who could appreciate it.

She heard the muffled voices of her grandfather and brother talking in Sota's room. It sounded like Sota wanted a scary story to end the night. Kagome laughed at the image of Sota cowering under the sheets later that night. As much as she loved her little brother, he was a class A pansy.

"Aww, come on Grandpa. Just this once...please?" he begged. She heard the old man sighing, reluctantly giving in. As if his scaring little Sota cost _him_ any sleep.

"Very well. Let's see, what tale of horror to terrify you, Sota...? Eh, vampires? Mummies? Maybe werewolves?"

"Gramps, I'm not a kid anymore...give me the goods, the juicy stuff!" he blurted out, Kagome biting her lip to stifle the laughter as she stood in the dark hallway, remembering him not so long ago creeping into her room, terrified from his latest video game with zombies and monsters.

"Ah yes, how about some history while I'm at it," wondered the old man aloud, stroking his chin. "Many hundreds of years ago, there was a monster who walked this land, a man neither human nor demon. A creature that tormented our ancestors and the kind folk of this countryside, a creature that devoured helpless women and children despite their cries. Some say, even the one woman foolish enough to love him. A being without a soul, or heart, a being worse than any single man or demon, for he was a beast of neither world."

Sota's eyes widened, pulling the sheets up about his neck as his grandfather continued the story. "Wh-wha-what was the monster's name?"

"His name," replied their grandfather, "was Inuyasha." He said the name in a snarl, his face a twisted mask of animalistic, seething hatred.

Before she knew what she was doing, Kagome had burst through the door and was yelling at the two of them. "How DARE you tell made up stories like that to Sota? _You_ don't know what happened, or if any of that story is even true! I can't believe you would go on to tell him a story like that just because he asked!" The two sat there, their eyes and mouths agape at her uncharacteristic anger. Realizing her overreaction, she blushed and quickly left the room, the two still stunned at her sudden intrusion and reaction.

"What's her problem?" whispered Sota.

"I suspect it's a part of her becoming a woman," answered their grandfather. "The same thing happened to your mother right about this age." As he spoke, a worried look came over his face. Sota ducked even more under his sheets.

"I don't know if I need scary stories anymore if she's going to be like that from now on, Gramps," he whispered.

Kagome fumed, her cheeks still a crimson red. Why had she reacted that way? The name Inuyasha...it felt so familiar. Perhaps she had heard the same story years ago, told differently. Maybe that could explain her anger at Gramps...him telling the story differently. No, that wasn't it, she thought as she paced about the house.

She found herself in front of the large tree in front of the shrine. It was strange, how often she had come to this same place with such a diverse range of emotions. She had come here in times of intense sadness and grief, in times of incredible joy and happiness. She wasn't sure what she felt now. She had thought she would be happy with everything happening with Hojo, but now...now she wasn't so sure what it was she really wanted. Sure, her friends would be envious of her, but that was such a trifling thing, really. She tried to think of the sad tale of Inuyasha, the half man half demon spurned by both worlds, but she felt it slipping away. A cold wind blew through the trees, whipping at her dark hair and sending a chill through her body. For some reason unknown to her, she felt an overwhelming sadness when looking upon the tree, and that one discolored spot in the wood high above her. Gramps had told her the tree had once nearly caught afire, but she still had doubts about that worn spot on the tree...

She returned to the house, casting one last regretful look at it. She spent the rest of the night imagining what she would wear for her big date that weekend. By morning, the memory of the story and her worried thoughts were forgotten.

* * *

The night wind grew colder, rattling the withered tree leaves from their branches. The two armed guards stood against the base of a wide tree, their displeasure obvious. Dark clouds masked the stars, casting the men in the pitch black of the late evening.

"Man, I hate guard duty," whined the younger man.

"I don't think anyone enjoys it," replied the older guard. "It's our turn anyways," he added wistfully.

"What's the big worry anyways," he asked. "The monster hasn't even moved in over fifty years."

"You're too young to remember what that beast was able to do when it could move."

"Well, so are you, 'old man'," he laughed. "This lifeless half demon can't be all that powerful...can it?""

"My father once told me the measure of a man's power is shown in how far he's willing to go to demonstrate that power. This monster murdered the one person that ever looked upon him as anything more than a monster, a kind and beautiful priestess. All her trust, her love...this creature destroyed that woman for the sake of power. That is what it is capable of."

"Huh," snorted the younger guard. "I'd say men aren't all that different from demons, then, if you were to ask me."

"Good thing the old and wise never need the answers of the young and brash," shot back the older man.

Their voices drifted into the still night, their laughter echoing off tall trees and snowy mountaintops. Inuyasha, however, heard none of this. He slept a dreamless slumber, an eternal journey through the abyss as his penance for the lives of his friends. The soul of a half demon is no different from that of a man; it seeks nourishment in the light, respite from the frigid darkness, the warm companionship of loved ones. For the half demon Inuyasha, his soul received none of this, only the heavy silence of the world, a world moving on without him as he slept his endless sleep.

THE END.


	4. Epilogue

The tree behind Higurashi shrine had been there longer than anyone could remember. It preceded the family's first generation and grew tall enough to cast shade for the whole the family lineage. It had withstood fierce rainstorms, piles of snow, and even the heat of a brush fire.

The tree had stood there when those found love, or lost it somewhere along the way. It seemed to happen very often that way; the simple pleasures of life growing more complicated like the changing seasons. Progress. Just like that tree had once been merely a seed, germinating with the right amount of love and nature, so did people and the rest of the world.

The demons were long gone; no one remembered when it happened, or how. It simply did. For all the demons, kind and evil in the world, the cycle of life had inevitably caught up to them. And so, like a dying flower withering against a sandstorm, the demons were swallowed up and into the swirling winds. All became one. Some demons disappeared into the seas, some into the mountains, some even into the things we see everyday. The delicate balance between worlds began anew.

Kagome thought nothing of this, crouching against the trunk of the tree as the tumultuous thunderstorm raged about her. Buuyo's kitten, Kilara, howled against the torrential wind and rain, the baby feline too terrified to move from its high perch. The rumble of thunder neared as the rain intensified. God, she wished Hojo or Sota were around,digging her fingers into the bark and trying to pull herself up. The wood was slippery, but even if hadn't been, there was no way she was climbing up that monolith of a tree. Kilara continued to moan, and it tore at the young woman's heart. Kilara was the sole newborn to survive Buuyo's only liter, and Kagome had felt an immediate attachment to that survivor kitten. But for some reason, that damn cat just loved climbing this tree, whether playfully or in fear. This was one of those times that fell into the "fear" category; Sota's overanxious and oversized dog Kouga had frightened poor Kilara, chasing her out and into the pounding rain. As if constantly humping Kagome's leg wasn't enough to bother her, the hyperactive dog had to chase her kitty around.

Kagome stretched her hands up as far as she could, calling to the kitten but still several feet out of reach. She jumped just as the earth suddenly shook, a bolt of lightning striking a nearby tree, casting flaming sparks from its trunk and across the ground. The glowing embers died under the hail of rain, and Kagome felt the panic again. This wasn't a good time to sit around and dawdle, she realized, stretching upwards again.

_This is pointless. Nothing I can do will make Kilara come down. _She felt an utter and complete frustration, her eyes welling up with tears.

And then somehow, an utter unexplainable event occurred that she would remember for all her days. Reaching up fruitlessly again, ready to resign herself, Kagome suddenly felt the wet and cold fur of the frightened kitten in her outstretched hands. She looked up, and saw the bough of the branch bending back high above her. She blinked away the tears of rain from her eyes, and still she saw it. _The tree had moved…?_ No, it must've just been the wind and rain, she thought. Clutching her precious Kilara, she ran back into the house, casting one last look at the tree. For some odd reason, the faint memory of an old fairy tale popped into her head. But for the life of her, she couldn't remember the name of it.

She would later come to rely on that tree more and more, to even count on its support. Through all the difficulties and joys of her life, that tree remained a steady part, always there to lend her a bit of its quiet strength. Her mother had once told her that her father had proposed to her under the tree, and she thought it incredibly sentimental. And yet, the man who loved Kagome saw her affection for that tree, and when he knelt to propose to her beneath its calming presence, she gladly accepted, turning to look wistfully at the monument that had always been there for her. She wouldn't need it anymore, she thought. She had Hojo to lean on now.

But still the tree remained a constant. Kagome played with her grandchildren under its branches, regaling them with the wide eyed wonders of a world long past but never forgotten. Her stories were of a life lived long ago, like a faint memory of a book one had read to them a lifetime earlier. Eventually came a day she sat to rest under the towering tree, soft sunlight drifting through stirring leaves,when her last breath finally left her. Her first daughter, the one she had named Sango, found her soon afterwards, and few would believe what she would tell them later. Though the sun was weak and the wind crisp that day, the thick leaves had somehow parted to grant the last bit of spring's warmth on her aged, peaceful face. It was as if that tree had loved her right back.

* * *

_Author's note: Courtesy of some feedback I had gotten on this story, I began to toss around ideas of how I could give this story an ending that would make readers happier. I eventually found some time and pumped this out in a sitting without a conclusive ending in mind. I merely set out to illustrate the cycle of life, even in one person's lifetime. We see it all around us and rarely give it a second thought. Like the tree; I wanted to consider the tree as a character, so I gave it some background and eventually realized the similarities to Inuyasha were too many to ignore: both were constants, protectors, and unable (or afraid) to express true feeling for Kagome other than being reliable. The show has taught us that the demons can exist in everyday things, and so I wondered, why can't Inuyasha become part of the tree? And so, this ending was borne. I know the marriage to Hojo might bother some, but I see Kagome as the type of girl to marry her first love. _

_A couple of other things; I'm not sure if Buuyo was a male or female cat, so I took some creative liberties to create a defenseless plot device we could see years later. Also, regarding the spelling of Kilala/Kirara; since most can't come to a definitive conclusion thanks to the translation from the Japanese language, I decided to blend both and I honestly liked the sound of it. Regardless of these trifling details, I hope you enjoyed the new epilogue and can walk away with a smile on your face._


End file.
